Don't Call Me Daddy
by River Tam
Summary: When a child lands on Gordo's doorstep claiming to be his, he makes the decision to rewrite his life and take care of her while looking for the child's real father. With the help of Miranda and Larry, perhaps he could be a decent father after all.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't Call Me Daddy**

Gordo had just started living a normal life again. He had gone from Hawaii back to California, and then moved out to New York to be a CEO in a production company. At the moment, he was reading over the script for a new TV show called _Next Door_, which was all about a beautiful girl that lived next door to a not-so-beautiful man. As if that hadn't been overplayed in the last six decades. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Taking a moment to read the last line of the script, he threw it back on the table and rolled his eyes. There was _no way_ he was going to let this drivel onto his set. None at all. It would not only degrade his ratings, but himself to be forced to watch it. And then, of course, came the factor that no one would care to see it. If he couldn't bring himself to watch it, who would?

He stood to turn the light out in the kitchen of his apartment and move to the bedroom. Halfway there he heard someone knocking on the door. Gordo glanced at his watch and raised a brow. Who would be knocking at three in the morning? The knocking became more urgent and he found it hard to ignore the suspect on the other side.

Expecting it to be some idiot teenager, he blinked several times when he opened the door and saw the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Not beautiful in a sexual way, of course, but a down-home, earthy, type beautiful. Her hair was long, brunette, and tapered. Her eyes, now full of tears from his urgent answer, were bright blue, with just a hint of green around each pupil. He stopped short of yelling at her, and took in the fact that this girl was only 5, maybe 6, and that was ball-parking it.

"Can I help you?" He inquired bitterly. The girl didn't speak and he felt like beating his head against the wall. "Listen, honey, I don't have all night. I have to go to work in like, three hours."

An older woman came up beside the girl, having heard the ruckus. "Oh, Abs, I see he is home."

"Mrs. Danby, is there a reason you sent this child over to my apartment?" He didn't mean to come off as angry, but he was stressed and didn't have much time to deal with anything else.

"Well, she came to my apartment asking for you. When I told her I didn't know if you were home, I sent her over here. It seems your phone is disconnected again." For good reason, he thought. "Besides, I figured it would be more appropriate for you to deal with it, seeing as she's your daughter."

_That _caught his attention. How could this child _possibly _be his daughter? "You felt that it was totally okay to send a five year old child to me alone, knowing I may not be home? Where would she go if I wasn't?"

"Back to my apartment until you got home." The woman answered with a smile. "Her name is Abigail. She seems to prefer Abs or Abby."

"Well, memorize that, because she's not my daughter." He went to close the door, but the small child stopped him, her blue eyes large and watery. "What do you want from me? Is it money? I can give you money. I'm not your father, okay?"

"My mom sent me," The child replied just above a tiny whisper.

Gordo knelt down and stared at the little girl, looking for any sign of who her mother might be. "Your mom was some kind of stupid sending their daughter alone to find me."

"She doesn't know," The girl answered sadly. "She thinks I'm with the babysitter."

Gordo's eyes went wide. "Great! Now I'm a kidnapper!"

Abby shook her head sadly. "No! I promise I'll call my mommy right away and let her know where I am! Please don't make me go home right now."

Gordo shook his head again, curls bouncing with each move. "Listen, Abby, was it? I don't know who you are, and I'm sure as hell not going to get arrested for kidnapping."

Abby dug into her pocket for a few moments, then produced a small card like object. The child handed it to Gordo and waited. In the image was a blonde, young and beautiful, sitting with him on a chair, their hands intertwined. "You looked so happy then. I thought maybe you could make my mommy happy again. She's always so sad."

He stared at the image for a long time, pieces falling into place. How could he have forgotten about her already? Seven years ago, she was his life, and now she was nothing but a cold and distant memory. He didn't want to believe he was the one that pushed her away. Quietly staring at the child, he handed the image back to her. "I can't help you."

"Yes, you can!" the child screamed, turning to see if the elder woman was still there. The elder had gone home, obviously assuming the family had worked it out. Abby bit her lip and wiped away the threatening tears. "My mommy always told me you were nice, and you loved her. She said you would have done _anything _for her."

"Seven years ago, sure, I would have." He turned to walk away. "But that changed when she left me for Ethan Craft."

"Wait! I'm your daughter! I can prove it!" Abs shouted.

"You've never even met me, how can you prove it?" He asked with a raised brow, foot in the door so he couldn't close it even if he wanted to. He was enraptured by this child. She seemed to want him as a father, not that he hadn't heard it before.

"My mommy, she was your best friend in high school." Abby answered. "You loved her so much that you asked her to marry you. When she said yes, you spent the whole night together. That's where I came in. She left you for Ethan though, just before I was born. You didn't know about me. She tried to tell you, but you kept saying I was Ethan's daughter. Do I _look _like Ethan?" The five year old asked bitterly.

Gordo had to admit she didn't much look like Ethan _or _Lizzie. She looked more like him. "Where is your mother now? How did you get here?"

Abby looked down at her shoes. "I bought a plane ticket with my mommy's card. She doesn't know." Abby smiled sadly. "I don't think she'll ever notice."

Gordo leaned in the doorjamb as if it was supporting him. "And why won't she ever know?"

The girl frowned, and then began to cry. "Because she's on drugs. She doesn't remember me. She kept asking me who I was, and when I'd tell her, she'd yell at me to get out because I reminded her of you."

For the first time that night, Gordo began to feel sympathy for the small child standing in front of him. He wondered if Lizzie _would _notice if her daughter was gone. If she was that far gone, clearly she wouldn't. He pushed all of his doubts aside and decided to help her, even if it was just for tonight. "They were going to put you into family services, weren't they?"

Abby nodded and walked past the doorway when he left it open and walked away. The girl toyed with the bunny in her hands, the same bunny he'd had as a child. How had she gotten it? She looked up at him with big bright blue eyes so much like his own. "I know this might be a little forward…but do you have anything to eat?"

He noticed absently that she side-stepped the question about family services and raised a brow. The way she spoke was very eloquent for a child her age, she definitely had his mannerisms. He pulled some cereal from the cupboard and handed her the box. "This is all I have until I go shopping tomorrow." He smiled absently. "Would you like some cocoa?"

"My mommy used to make me cocoa!" The girl's eyes lit up for the first time in several hours. "Can I have a candy cane in it? I like mint cocoa."

Gordo stared at her for a long time. That was something his mother used to do, throw a little mint into the chocolate for flavor. He hadn't heard of anyone else doing that in years. Nodding he laughed quietly. "Abby, what happened to your mother? Do you know?"

The little girl nodded and followed him into the kitchen. "Mommy used to love me a lot. I was her lifeline, and her link to you. But when you left her, she felt like she had nothing left anymore. Mommy was going to put me up for adoption, but then she realized she could get money out of you. She was going to keep me and use you to feed her addiction." Abby struggled to climb onto the tall stool by the counter. He gently helped her up and sat her on the chair. Abby continued talking. "Mommy wasn't going to take care of me. She was going to use any money so got from you for me, in order to buy her drugs. She's overdosed twice now…and I've been staying with Uncle Matt."

Gordo already knew Lizzie was mentally ill now. His mother had treated her several times while she was in rehab. He poured some milk into a pot and boiled it on low heat, listening to Abby talk. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I found a letter you had sent to mommy that she wanted to burn. It had your address on it. I asked Uncle Matt to help me find the address as a project for school." She looked down at the table, waiting quietly to get reprimanded. "Mommy took me back last week. She said she was clean and could take care of me…she said she would change because I meant so much to her." Abby began to cry again, her words slurred from tears. "She won't change for me. I'm not good enough for her. She doesn't want me."

Gordo suddenly felt a wave of compassion hit him like a rock. This child had one hell of a life, and she needed support, even if it was from a stranger. He rubbed his temples and set a mug down. "Listen, Abigail, I loved your mother beyond any doubt, and I still do. But I can't be with her right now. I know you want me to fix her, but I can't. Only she can do that. I would just be in the way. For now, I'll take care of you until I can get a hold of family services."

"NO!" Abby screamed. "I don't want to go to foster care! I'll be away from mommy _and _Uncle Matt! I don't want to go!"

"Abby, listen," Gordo quietly poured the cocoa powder into the milk and mixed it, dropping some marshmallows and mint into it. "I can't take care of you. You're not my daughter. I have no children."

"I am! I am your daughter!" Abby screamed. "I know I am!"

"Listen, Abby. You're not. If you were, I would have known years ago."

"Please let me stay. I don't want to go back to mommy. She only uses me to make people feel sorry for her so they give her money." Abby looked away, calming herself slightly as she clutched the bunny close. "I don't want to be her toy anymore. I want to be where I'm loved again."

Gordo wasn't so sure she would get that with him. Not if he wasn't sure entirely who she was. He stared at her for a long time, blue eyes scrutinizing every detail of the small child. He shook his head and slid the mug of cocoa to her. "I'm calling child services tomorrow. I'm sorry, Abby, but you're not my child." And for the first time that night, Gordo believed his lie.

* * *

><p>Eight in the morning rolled around quickly. Gordo began to wonder if this deal with that Abby girl was a dream, at least until he went into his bedroom to get clothes and saw her still sleeping in his bed. That's right; he'd given Abby the bed so he slept on the couch. Of course, how could he have forgotten? He brushed out his tangled hair and turned, leaning his back against the dresser, to stare at the little girl sleeping in his bed.<p>

She reminded him so much of Lizzie. What if she was Lizzie's daughter? She was six years old, so she was either his or Ethan's. He shook his head and looked away, turning to dig through the dresser. Lizzie's words kept repeating in his mind. _It's not Ethan's baby, I promise! I know it's yours! It has to be yours!_ His mind kept replaying the moment as he dug through the clothes idly.

Abby stirred in her bed, rolling onto her side and whimpering. He could only imagine which of the horrific moments _she _was reliving. What if she really was his? How could he live with himself for leaving her in a terrible situation for six years? He stared down at the dresser and pulled out a shirt, clutching it with all his might. _I'll take care of her_ he thought _even if she's not mine, she deserves a loving home_. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out when Abby had been born. He could remember Lizzie yelling the child was his – but he couldn't remember when the argument took place…or when they had been together romantically.

He slipped into the shirt and went into the kitchen to pick up the house phone. Dialing the number for family services that he knew so well from dealing with his parent's patients, he waited on the line for someone to pick up. A male voice came over the line, asking for a name. "David Gordon," he answered, then paused and waited. "I'm calling about a child named Abigail Christine McGuire; she came to my house after running away from home last night claiming to be my daughter."

"How do you want us to help you?" The man asked.

Gordo paused. "Actually…I don't think you can. I'm calling to inform you that she's here, so if her mother comes looking for her, I didn't kidnap her. The child came here of her own free will." Gordo wasn't entirely sure how this worked; he just knew the numbers and how to deal with them. _Not _what to say.

The man coughed slightly and dialed another number. "Maybe you should call her mother and tell her that."

Gordo nodded and sighed. "Thanks, I will."

He hung up with them and dialed another number, waiting for his mother to pick up. Roberta answered the phone and waited, her words coming at him fast and hard. "Is Abigail okay?"

He stopped, breathing harsh. "You knew?"

"David, how could I not have known? She was born on your birthday." Roberta blinked and waited for him to catch his breath again. "David, you didn't know she was your daughter, did you?"

"She's not my daughter, mom. I don't know where she came from, but she's not mine."

"Her birth certificate says otherwise, David. And by law you have to take responsibility if that's what it says." Roberta pressured, trying to make him realize the truth.

"I never _signed _a birth certificate! I don't know where this all came up from, but I know damn well that Abigail _isn't _my daughter! If she was, why didn't she just go to you?" Gordo demanded, his palm flat on the wall, bracing him against it. "I don't see why she did this, mother. Why is Lizzie trying to make me suffer? Because her life is so terrible she has to make mine terrible?"

"Abigail is yours, David. I've counseled with her, I can guarantee you one hundred percent that she's yours."

"Stop trying to make me believe she's mine! That can be solved later! Right now my problem is that I'm a kidnapper because her mother doesn't know she's here!" Gordo shouted, his voice rising only slightly.

"David, her mother is in prison. They were going to send her to child services and put her in foster care. I could not, in good conscience, let my granddaughter go to foster care." She lowered her voice. "I was the one who paid for her ticket to come find you."

"Take her back, I don't want her."

"David Zephyr Gordon! She's a child, could you, in all honesty, turn her away? Could you? You used to be so gracious and kind, and now you're just bitter and jealous. Its three months from Christmas, give her a chance to prove you wrong." Roberta replied.

"One word, mother. Kidnapping."

"Your name is on her certificate; I set it up with child services so she would go to you in the event of an emergency. Don't mess this up, David. She needs you now…just like you need her." Roberta sighed deeply. "I love you, David. Take good care of her for Lizzie."

"Mom, wait I—"

There was nothing but a dial tone on the other end.

Five hours ago he was single and free, now there was a child in his life that he didn't know about. And the worst part was that he couldn't deny the coincidences much longer. Abby came into the room rubbing her eyes, holding her bunny by the ear. Gordo took a deep breath and looked at the little girl. How _could _he turn her away in good conscience? "Abby, are you hungry? I'll make you waffles."

The little girl's eyes lit up and she smiled brightly. "I love waffles! Can you put strawberries on them?"

Gordo nodded. "That's how I like my waffles, too." He sighed in defeat. "I don't know who you are, Abigail, but at the request of a very knowing and wonderful woman, I'll look after you. But as soon as your mother is better, you're going home. I mean it."

"Okay. So I can stay here?" The child inquired, climbing onto the stool again. She kicked her feet happily and watched the man move around the kitchen carelessly. "Pleassssseee?"

"For now. But like I said, when your mother is better, you're going home. Got it?"

Abby nodded eagerly. "Thank you for changing your mind."

"You're lucky someone out there cares about you more than I do." Gordo answered. "I don't mean that I'm going to disown you, because if you are my daughter, I'm going to take care of you…but right now wasn't very good timing. And I must admit, your argument is a little invalid."

"Do you have any cinnamon?" The little girl inquired softly.

"Yes, why?" Gordo asked, taking a bottle from the cabinet and handing it to her. Abby smiled and poured some into her hand. He watched curiously. "What are you doing?"

"Look!" She pointed to her hand, and as he leaned closer, not seeing what she was looking at, she blew it in his face. Gordo started to sneeze and frowned. "I knew you were allergic! So am I!"

"Abigail!" He sputtered and sneezed again. "Don't do that again!"

The child peeked her head over the counter and watched him with a sly smile. "Mommy told me that's why you couldn't cook anything with cinnamon in it, she had to do it. So why do you keep it around?"

"Every so often I make some cookies for your mother…is that so bad?" He asked, flipping the waffle onto a plate. "I'd like to think of it as nostalgia."

"That's a sad word. I don't like that word."

"That word happens to mean _fond thoughts of _or _wanting to return_." Gordo answered. He absently noticed Abby knock over something onto the script and stain it. Though he wanted to shout at her, common sense got the better of him. He smiled at her and laughed. She cowered into the stool, staring at him curiously. "I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" She peeked up slightly and looked up at him, those same blue eyes as his. "Why not?"

"Because that script was terrible and I didn't have the heart to tell the man who wrote it that I would never read it again." He sliced up some strawberries and dumped them on top of the waffles. "Now, enjoy your breakfast. We've got a long day ahead of us."

"What do you mean?" Abby inquired brightly.

"You're coming to work with me."

"Nuh uh!" Abby shouted excitedly. "Really?"

He nodded and took a bite of his waffle. "Yeah. There's nowhere else to go. I can't find you a babysitter on such short notice, so you're gonna have to come with me." He picked a strawberry off of her plate and ate it. "Just don't get me in trouble at my own company."

"Oh! I won't!" She smiled brightly. "I'll be a movie director for one whole day!"

"Yeah, about that…"

* * *

><p>I'm digging' this idea right now. XD Now if I could finish it, it would be a miracle. Expect an update to SOD in the next few days. Probably tonight or tomorrow. I won't be home until Midnight tonight, and I go in for work at 7am the next day, so I can't promise anything when I get home.<p>

It's slightly OOC because of the fact that I have never seen someone take kindly to a random child saying they were yours. So, it's going to get better as it goes, just a slow process.

Oh, and as always, **read and review **3


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm just saying, Gordon, think of how much better this movie would be if we could cast Jessica Alba? She's like, the hottest woman on the planet right now." Alexander announced, speaking rather upfront with his boss.

Gordo moved the phone to his other ear and shook his head. "No. No Jessica Alba. We have a budget to keep, and we cannot afford to pay her." He sighed and began to scribble on a notebook pad, then raised a brow. "What about Morena Boccaran?"

"Not as hot, not even nearly." Alexander spoke, quietly contemplating the rise and downfall of the newest blockbuster _D. Gordon Enterprises_ was working on. He didn't want to tell Gordo that the idea of doing anything other than what he suggested would be murder for his career. Gordo flipped the page and doodled, waiting as Alex explained himself again. "What about that Jewel Staite girl?"

"Are we trying to recruit the entire cast of _Firefly_?" Gordo asked impatiently. "Or was that purely coincidental?"

"To be honest, I'm not so sure. What ideas do the idiots in your department have?" Alexander inquired.

"See, this is why I hate working with you, Alex. Everyone I work with is immediately an _idiot_, even if the idea they come up with is much better than yours. I'm only going to shoot you down fifty more times. No Jessica Alba. My idiots can handle this." Gordo answered. "And you wonder why you only work part time right now."

"Hey, now, I'm like a brother to you. Don't be such a derk." Alex mumbled. "How's Tudjman doing with effects?"

"Marvelous, he's almost done with the green screen and the grafting, I'll have to go down and take a look at it tomorrow. The set is almost complete, too. Sanchez isn't too bad at painting." Gordo replied, checking his watch. He'd hired Miranda and Larry as a married team, knowing that they work better as a team. Lizzie had turned him down because she had bigger dreams. He didn't want to remember her _dreams_. Miranda hadn't talked to Lizzie since she started using. "Look, if you still want to help me do casting, come by tomorrow around eight, we have a whole list to go through."

"Wicked, I'll be there." Alex announced. "Just make sure your idiots are scarce."

"The idiots will be scarce," Gordo answered before hanging up the phone.

He heard a faint tapping at the door and looked up. Greta was standing there, tall and beautiful. The Swedish woman smiled, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. It was no secret that Greta and Gordo had quite the affair going. She walked into the room, her ruby red lips twisted into a smile. "David," She murmured seductively, sitting on the corner of his desk. Her skirt was rather short this time, but he paid little mind. "What say you about going to dinner tonight? My brother just opened his restaurant, it's in Manhattan."

Gordo licked his lips. "Oh my, as tempting as that offer sounds…I have plans."

"Plans? With another woman?" Greta sounded defeated. Her lips twisted into a pout. "Don't tell me it's Sanchez again."

"Okay, _that _was a total accident, and Larry forgave me." Gordo tried to avoid thinking about the time he and Miranda got drunk at the Christmas party and kissed under the mistletoe. He'd rather remember the last time he was in a bed tangled in the sheets with Greta. "Did anyone tell you that you have a body made for modeling?"

"You have. A number of times. So why won't you cast me in a movie?" Greta asked, whimpering softly. "Do you not believe in me?"

He gently touched a hand to the small of her back and kissed her neck. "Of course I believe in you, but if I put you in movies, then I have to fight the public for your affection. I'm greedy; I'd rather keep you all to myself." Gordo responded. "You should go before something bad happens again."

"David Gordon, how many times do I have to tell you that there's a lock on your door for a reason?" She slid from the desk and walked towards the door, her long black stilettos clicking each step. She wiggled her butt for a moment then turned and blew a kiss. "My offer still stands, boss."

"I'll let you know." Gordo replied, laughing as the woman left.

He found it more and more difficult to concentrate on her offer with the prospect of a child living with him. What if she saw and got upset? He closed his eyes a moment, thinking over the possible outcomes. Even if Abby _was _his daughter, that didn't mean he had to go back with Lizzie. Even if it was what his parents wanted, he knew damn well he wouldn't marry a woman who used drugs. And unless Lizzie could get clean and _stay _clean, he probably wouldn't consider her at all. Greta on the other hand was beautiful, intelligent, smart, what did he have to lose?

He pondered this a little while longer, scribbling in his notebook. _Stop thinking about Greta_, he reprimanded himself. He wrote a note and stared at it for a long time. He did still love Lizzie, and Greta was just there for support. He was using her and both parties knew it. But Greta was hoping that he would change his mind about her, even though he knew deep down he never would. He bit his lip and touched a hand gently to the pendant on his neck. "Abby, who are you, really?"

The note stared back at him for quite some time before he gave up. He would need to buy this child clothes, find somewhere for her to sleep in his penthouse apartment, give up dating and sex, and take up cooking and babysitting. Quite the sacrifice to make in one single day. It wasn't as if Lizzie had called and said she was dropping off her daughter and he had to plan accordingly. He quickly scribbled down _food _to that list and threw the pen at the paper.

Gordo had a propensity to get too caught up in things that weren't meant to get caught up in. He hadn't even noticed Miranda tapping on the door. "Gordo?"

Only three people on the planet called him that name; Miranda, Larry, and Lizzie. He looked up, eyes watery from fighting off tears. "Miranda." He quickly wiped the tears away and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

"I have to go back to the set des—" then she noticed his tears and looked up at him with sad brown eyes. "What's wrong? I don't think I've ever seen you cry."

"I thought it would be hard to give up my lifestyle to take care of a kid, but I find it very easy. I feel like what I've been doing since I left Lizzie is wrong, and giving up on her is giving up on me." He sniffed and frowned. "But the other factor is that what if Abby isn't my daughter? What if she really is Ethan's and Lizzie is expecting me to not notice? Would it really be fair of me to give up my lifestyle and make sacrifices for a child that isn't even mine?"

"My son seems to enjoy playing with Abby," Miranda added, trying to change the topic. She crossed her long, thin legs, and smiled softly. "He's been playing with her at the daycare for hours now. Mrs. Albright says that they're getting along very well. Is it really sacrificing anything if the child is beautiful, amazing, talented, and enjoyable?"

Gordo looked up at her and raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"I would hardly call being a parent a _sacrifice_. I rather enjoy it. And you don't have to give up Greta, just cut back on the time you see her. Larry and I can always babysit for you. But I don't think Lizzie is lying to you. The more time I spend with Abby, the more I see you in her." Miranda brushed her long black hair behind her ears and frowned. "If you turn her away, that's your prerogative, but make sure you do it with good conscience. Don't send her back home to Lizzie."

"When did Lizzie become such the subject of hate?" Gordo asked hesitantly. "She used to be so loveable."

"And then she found the darker part of Sacramento," Miranda answered. "Ethan offered her something she's always wanted."

"Fame," Gordo concluded.

"A family. Your job always came first to you, Gordo. Family _always _played second fiddle to your dreams. The only exception was your parents. And that's fine, that's just the single child syndrome. But for Lizzie, it was different. Her family taught her that it isn't just family that plays an important part of your life, and one day you have to let go and move on. If you love Lizzie, make the effort to help her, console her, and help her move on."

"Move on?"

"Ethan left her for an Italian supermodel he met in Vegas. That's why she started using." Miranda replied.

"How do you know?"

"I keep tabs on everyone I knew in high school. I'm just glad it wasn't me that got caught up in Ethan Craft." She smiled sadly. "Larry was definitely the better choice; just like you would have been the better choice for Lizzie. But both of you have changed so drastically, I'm not so sure. Baser instinct may still shine through for both of you, but after seven years, who knows? Perhaps the only driving force either of you have to change is Abby."

Gordo shook his head and stood to stare out the window. Snow began to fall and drift listlessly to the ground. The powder was blown softly about by the wind, tossed carelessly and haphazardly into snow drifts. He stared at his reflection. "I still love Lizzie. I find myself thinking of her every time I see Greta. I will never stop loving Lizzie, but to spring this on me at random and not give me any warning? How do I know for sure that Abby is really mine?"

"A parent knows," Miranda answered casually. She stared at the note on his desk.

_Clothes_

_Room_

_School_

_Toys_

_Food_

"What do you mean?" Gordo asked absently, turning to search his best friend for answers. "You mean that you believe Abby really is my daughter?"

"So many people believe she's your daughter, it would almost be a shame if she wasn't." Miranda answered. "She believes it. But maybe she was just raised that way. I think if anything, if she isn't yours, at least let her believe. Gordo, she needs a miracle right now, almost as much as you do. Let this child be the thing that saves you from the edge."

"What _edge_, Miranda?"

"The one you've been precariously balanced on for four months now, Gordo. The one you've been waiting to dive off of and get lost in. You said you loved Lizzie, yet here you are sleeping with some woman you barely know and hired only for her exotic looks. You have the opportunity to turn your life around not only for your sake, but for Abby's." She smiled brightly, knowing she was the only person in the entire company that could get away with talking to him in such a way. Sometimes Gordo just needed to hear the truth from someone that knew him. "Let Abby have a father. You and I both know damn well that Ethan isn't going to be one."

"What time are you off tonight?" He asked, checking his watch.

"Seven, why?" Miranda asked absently. She was about to ask why he didn't know and then realized he had to verify a schedule for three-hundred-and-seventy-five people. "You want me to pick up Abby?"

"No, I'll go with you to pick up James, that way we can go shopping. Bring Larry if you want." Gordo answered.

"Shopping?"

"Abby needs clothes. All she has is what she came in. I don't want her wearing that in daycare for very long, it might get her the stigma Larry had in high school." Thankfully Miranda managed to beat that out of him when they got married. "Please."

Miranda faked a sigh and frowned. "If I have to, I guess."

"I'll give you that bonus you've wanted for so long."

"Oh, hell yes. Deal."

* * *

><p>Miranda huddled into her jacket and waited outside the building for Abby. The small girl came slowly through the ice towards the Mexican woman and frowned when she didn't see her father. Not only had he promised to take her to work and didn't, but he also promised to pick her up and didn't. She was starting to lose faith in the man her mother loved so dearly. James came running behind her and jumped into his mother's arms. "Mama!"<p>

"Hello, James. Are you excited to spend time with your friend tonight?" Miranda asked, shifting the child to her hip, as she looked down at Abby. Abby was standing with her feet crossed, her eyes downcast, her arms wrapped tightly around her tiny body as she shivered. How had Miranda missed that the child didn't have a jacket? She gently set James down and went to the back of her Bronco, digging through boxes for clothes she was going to donate. She handed it to Abby and smiled. "Here; this used to be James', but he's too big for it now. It will fit you. I know it's not girly, but it will keep you warm."

Abby sniffled and slipped into the dark blue jacket, wiping away her tears. "Where's my daddy?"

"He's got to stay a tiny bit later than usual; he's getting something ready for you. We're going to go shopping for you, and then you get to come over to my house and play with James for the night. How fun does that sound?" Miranda tried to smile, but she knew Abby wasn't happy. She knelt down to the child's level and touched her shoulder gently. "Listen, Abby, I know you don't like the situation, but you're asking a man whose lived by himself for years to give up everything. I have no doubt in my mind that you're his daughter, but as long as he does, he's going to do his best to fight you off. Don't pressure him into the daddy thing just yet. Let him work at his own pace. I'll help him."

Abby nodded and smiled at James. "Want to play snowball wars?"

James laughed and hid behind the car. "Of course!"

Miranda sat on the back bumper and watched the snow continue to fall. The neon light went out at the daycare signaling that it was closed. Miranda folded her arms and sighed when she checked her watch. Eight Fifteen pm. Gordo was late. An hour and fifteen minutes late, to be exact. "I swear, Gordon, if this is because of Greta, you're going to get hurt."

Gordo came running towards Miranda's car, sliding on the ice, nearly crashing into the woman. Miranda moved out of the way and caught him before he could fall. Just as clumsy as the older days. She laughed and helped him up. "Sorry I was late; my car broke down a block away."

"And it took you an hour to walk here?" Miranda asked.

That's when she saw the bag in his hand. He held it up and smiled. "I figured Abby might need this tonight, it is snowing pretty hard."

Miranda opened the bag and looked at the cloth item inside. "Gordo, this is a seven."

"Isn't that what size she is?" He asked facetiously.

"No. She's a six. She barely fits into James' old jacket, so she's a six." Miranda shook her head and pat him on the shoulder. "It's okay, though. That just means she can wear it again next year."

Gordo nodded sadly and looked around for Abby and James. "Do you know where the kids went?"

"Oh, yeah." Miranda laughed and whistled. James came running to her side, sliding to a halt in front of her, barely gaining traction in the snow. "James, do you remember who this is?" She asked pointing to Gordo.

"That's your boss! Abby's daddy." He answered, offering his hand to Gordo. "It's nice to meet you again, sir."

She swatted his hand away with a shy smile. "His dad's been teaching him things he shouldn't. Where is Abby?"

"Oh! She's playing behind the car." He ran to the front of the car and grabbed Abby by the arm, dragging her back around to Gordo. "Here's your daughter, Mr. Gordon."

Gordo felt weird hearing the name "daughter", but for some reason it felt right. He smiled at Abby and pointed to Miranda. "She's got my present for you."

Abby looked up expectantly at Miranda and smiled brightly. "Disney princesses!"

"Good choice," he mumbled casually, laughing as Abby slipped out of the dark blue jacket and into the slightly larger pink one with Tiana, Cinderella, and Snow White on it. "At least she likes it." He shrugged. "I need to buy you clothes, are you coming with me to pick them out?"

Abby nodded excitedly. "Can James come with?"

"That was the plan," He smiled a little, kneeling to her level with a tiny smile. "I need to make you feel welcome, remember?"

Abby nodded and smiled. "Are you coming too, Miss Sanchez?"

"Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way." She took James hand and helped him up into the truck and seatbelt in. She lifted Abby into the car beside her son and belted her in as well. "Are you two secure?"

Abby and James nodded with a laugh. "Yeah."

Gordo climbed into the car next to Miranda and buckled his seatbelt with a sigh. "I'll have to call and get my car towed. Thankfully I have another at the apartment complex." The older man looked out the window carefully, thinking that this whole deal with Abby did have a slightly brighter side to it.

"Admit it," Miranda murmured. "She's growing on you."

"It's only been one day, and I've only actually spent time with her for seven hours. I can't really say she's growing on me just yet. But I want to make her feel welcome, that way I don't feel like a complete ass if it winds up in a custody battle." He looked away, staring at the child in the rear view mirror. "It does kind of feel right calling her my daughter, but my doubts still get the better of me. What if Lizzie just put my name on her birth certificate to make Ethan less likely to take the child away?"

"In the same respect, Gordo, why would she tell her child to leave because she reminded her of you?" Miranda countered, driving slowly through the ice. "Your argument is vague. Lizzie turned her away because she felt the child was just like you. She looks like you. She talks like you. She may very well be Ethan's, but I'm not seeing the connection. Look at your baby pictures one day."

Gordo nodded and sighed, leaning back against the chair, feeling welcome for the first time that night. He hadn't had a chance to spend time with Miranda by himself in years. Larry didn't mind them talking, he welcomed it, because he knew Gordo needed the support once in a while. Miranda turned to look at him. "Listen, Gordo. I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want to do. Give it a week or so until Children and Youth contacts you back, and then run from there."

He nodded, eyes still closed. "How did you get so smart?"

"I married a genius." She laughed and stared at him again at a stop light. "I'm glad you and Larry are getting along now."

"We always got along, but the competition never stops." He folded his arms slightly, shaking his head. "Miranda, do you think Lizzie can change?"

"I believe so. I don't feel like she's too far gone to fix this mess. Gordo, the more important question is; is your love strong enough to support her if she can?" The woman brushed her long black hair back again, turning to look at him fleetingly. "It's not easy to go back once you've been using. It's going to take every ounce of willpower she has. And if you want to be in a relationship, weather for Abby's sake or your own, then you need to support her and help her overcome her addiction."

"I'm not sure where I stand right now," He admonished lightly. "I feel like I finally find my way out of the hole and then someone throws me a shovel and tells me to keep digging."

"Your life isn't _that _terrible. You've got an amazing company, millions of dollars, a life anyone would envy, and you still feel like you're getting your feet kicked out from under you? That's a poor excuse for anything, Gordo."

"Romantically, I feel like my life just doesn't want to make sense. I never had the nerve to tell her I loved her in high school, I lost her to Ethan, and now I'm losing her again to drugs. Way to make me feel sane. I'm not even good enough for her to quit using." Gordo quietly answered.

"Maybe you are. Maybe you just need to make yourself known in her life. She can't be _that _far gone. Children and Youth called you at work and asked about her, so they know she's missing from the system. Either someone reported her missing, or it was an oversight on someone's part, but they know she's here without their permission." Miranda answered, looking over at him. His face showed astonishment and that's when she noticed Greta hadn't told him. "You didn't know."

"Greta didn't tell me." He took a deep breath and slunk into the chair. "Great, now she's lying to me, too. So how long until I go to prison for lying to them?" He asked.

"You won't go to prison," She turned the corner and pulled into a parking lot, looking to her best friend of an entire lifetime. "Your name is on her birth certificate, she was going to be sent to you anyway as the next of kin. The only problem is that someone reported her missing from the youth home, and I wonder who it was."

"Maybe it was Santa clause," Gordo answered sarcastically.

"It's October, Gordo."

"Miranda, the fact remains that she's here and I don't know a single thing about taking care of a child. I get through the day by taking care of her like I would take care of myself." He answered.

"That's all anyone can do, Gordo. No one knows how to take care of a child right away, they learn as they go. I didn't know thing one about taking care of James, thankfully Stevie gave me time to learn." She answered folding her arms to the cold as she climbed out of the truck.

"Stevie was only a baby when you were in high school, wasn't she?" He asked casually.

"She's fifteen now, can you believe that? The point is that I had experience dealing with my sister, but you have the downfall with the only-sibling-syndrome. You didn't have opportunities like we did." She turned to open the door for James, gently waking him up. "Come on, Kiddo, we're here."

Gordo opened the door on Abby's side and gently woke her as well, tangling his hand in the seatbelt in the process of unbuckling it. Miranda set James on the ground and came around to help him. "Thanks Miranda."

"For being a genius, you sure do lack common sense," She retorted. "I mean…you're welcome."

Gordo gave a sarcastic smile and took Abby's hand in his own, leading her through the parking garage. "I'm glad you're here to help me, Miranda. I really need it."

Miranda nodded and turned to Abby. "It's either that or have her guess what sizes she is. It's less awkward with a woman around." She picked a tired James up into her arms and held him close so he could rest his head against her shoulder. "You really are hopeless sometimes, aren't you, Gordo?"

"I'd like to think of myself as gracefully aloof to common situations." He answered, staring down at Abby. Now that he looked at her, she did look almost identical to him. She had his eyes, but Lizzie's shape. And then there was the smile that looked almost identical to his. She had not a single trace of Ethan in her. Then again, he could be suffering from projection and imagining those traits were there so he didn't have to feel bad about taking care of a child he didn't know was his. But since several people saw it, he doubted that was the case.

Miranda stopped to look at Gordo, her dark brown eyes raising a brow in curiosity. "Aloof?"

"Yes. Aloof. Like a bumbling idiot. I don't know anything about kids...just that they like toys and hate clothes."

"This one seems to like clothes," Miranda added casually, looking over her shoulder at Abby as she held the door open for them. "But I'm not so sure sometimes. She plays with Barbie's a lot, so I'm guessing she likes dress up."

Gordo looked down at the quiet child and smiled. "Yeah, she does look like that kind of kid, huh?"

Miranda closed the door behind her and led them upstairs to the girl's section of the nearest department store. She set James down and sighed when he began to cry. "James, honey, don't cry. Come on, I'll show you something really neat." She handed him her phone and let him play Angry Birds, then turned to Gordo again. "Now to help you. Unfortunately it's not as easy as handing you a game."

"Life is a game right now," He mumbled as he dug through the racks for something appropriate. He knew now that he wouldn't want this child dressing like Greta. Picking up a dress he looked at it with disdain. "What about this?"

"If you don't like it, odds are she won't either. And it's a sixe fourteen, she's a size six. How many times do I have to tell you this?" Miranda scolded, moving to the other side of the rack and digging through school clothes. She held up a collared blouse to Abby and smiled. "Here, this should work." She handed it to Gordo and continued to shuffle through the racks. "How much are we spending?"

"Money is no object," He answered, following Miranda with a stack slowly growing in his arms. "I'd like to say a grand will be enough, but this place is pretty expensive, so…just enough to get her through her first few weeks of school?"

Miranda looked up at him in shock. "You got her enrolled already?"

"No, but…I thought she could stay in the daycare…?"

"No! That's only for the next few months until she's old enough for school, where is she going to go to school?" Miranda asked bitterly. "Please tell me you've thought about this."

"Where is James going?" Gordo asked.

"He's homeschooled by my parents." Miranda answered. "He does his classes online with my parents via webcam, and gets babysat by Arlie, our neighbor."

"Can't I do something like that for Abby?" He inquired when she threw another shirt onto the pile in his arms. "It seems easy enough."

"No! You can't do that for Abby! She needs a real school, Gordo! Don't force her to be socially inept like you were. She deserves the opportunity to have friends." She shoved him towards Abby and frowned. "Have her try those on."

As Abby was in the dressing room, he leaned against the outside wall and slid down. "This is so complicated."

"I promised I would help you, Gordo, but she's going to need a real school. Look at what happened to you when you were sheltered from people for so long?" Miranda argued, looking at him with concerned brown eyes he wasn't used to seeing. "Give her the chance to be a normal kid."

"Normal?" He asked jokingly.

"Yeah, like you and I were in middle school. Like Lizzie was before the drugs. Give her the opportunity to be a real kid, not a sheltered mess." Miranda spoke confidently. "Try and enroll her in the Carlisle Academy for Young Girls, she stands a better chance there with your wealth."

"I'll call them tomorrow, then."

Miranda went back to the rack and pulled out several preparatory outfits meant for the academy and handed them over the door to Abby. "Try those on, honey."

"Okay, Mrs. Sanchez."

* * *

><p>Gordo sat at the kitchen table with bags of clothes and toys piled around him. Abby was staying with Miranda for the night while he assembled the furniture that was delivered while he was at work. He'd disassembled all the stuff in his office and put it in the hall closet or threw it away, and started to hesitantly put together the items he'd purchased and rush ordered. The canopy bed was finished already, delivered the way it was and assembled on the spot, but the dresser wasn't so easy.<p>

Six hours later he'd finished the blasted thing and pushed the furniture against the walls, organizing it carefully. He began to pull the tags off the clothes in the bags and fold them, putting them into the dresser. After a while, he finally decided to move onto decorating. Hanging photographs of Winnie the Pooh characters on the wall, he carelessly moved onto animals, organizing them on the bed.

It finally hit nine in the morning and he lost any interest, falling asleep where he was currently at.

And that's where Miranda found him the next morning when she went to drop off Abby. Abby stood in the doorway, waiting for Miranda to tell her it was okay to go into the apartment. Miranda stood in the doorway to what was once the office and tapped on the door. "Gordo, I always thought Disney princesses were below you."

He coughed and rolled onto his side, falling off of the narrow bed. Blinking several times he stared up at Miranda. "How did you get in? And why am I in Abby's room?"

"I would be willing to bet a month's pay that you're in here because you fell asleep getting it ready for her. And I got in because you gave me your spare key last night." She answered casually, tossing the key back to him. "Abby's in the living room. You might want to compose yourself for work."

"I'm not going," He yawned.

"You have to. You're the head of the company." Miranda countered.

She heard a crash and turned to see if James or Abby were hurt, but both sat innocently on the couch beating each other with pillows. "I'll fix that later," She replied when his mouth opened to speak. "Listen, I know this _daddy _thing is all new to you, but Abby needs to go to school, and you're not setting a very good example by skipping work."

"I'll call the school right now, actually," He slurred, nearly falling through the doorway as he walked by. Had she not stepped out of the way, he probably would have. He reached for the house phone and dialed the number on the piece of paper by the phone. "Is this Carlisle Prep?"

The woman laughed casually and answered with a yes. "We are indeed, you've reached enrollment services, and how may I help you?"

"My name is David Gordon; I'd like to enroll my daughter, Abigail Christine McGuire for the spring semester. Money is no object."

Miranda slapped herself in the forehead. He really needed to stop announcing that to the planet. She scribbled a note on a piece of paper and held it up in front of his face so he could read it: _Stop announcing your wealth before Abby gets kidnapped_. HE nodded and waited for the woman to speak again.

"You're in luck. We have six openings for that semester. Abigail, you said?"

He nodded, and then realized she couldn't see him. "Yes, Abigail Christine."

"Date of birth?" The woman asked.

Gordo froze. He didn't know that. He filtered through all of his conversations and did the math. She was six, right? And she was born on his birthday? "September fourteenth, 2005." He paused and thought again. "I think."

"…you think?" The woman asked skeptically.

"She, uhh…well," He tried to think of the words when Miranda held up another note. He read it carefully. "She's kind of adopted; I haven't had a chance to memorize it yet."

"Oh, well," The woman laughed. "That explains the last name, then!"

Hadn't this woman ever heard of a divorced family? He smiled at Miranda and gave her thumbs up. "So it's okay?"

"We'll just need her social security number, and location of birth." The woman replied.

Gordo froze again, the color draining from his face. "Can…I get back to you with that?"

The woman sighed. "As soon as you possibly can, sir, it's incredibly important. And normally I don't bend the rules like this, but you seem like you're in a hurry."

He answered quickly with a thank you and hung up, rapidly dialing his mother's number. Roberta picked up almost as soon as the first ring went through. "David?"

"Mom, what are Abby's birthday, social security, and location of birth?" He asked, crossing his fingers.

"You don't know?" She asked.

"No, am I supposed to?"

"You'll have to call Lizzie, I don't know either. I only know her birthday." Which was a lie, and he knew it. She could have looked into the records from counseling and told him, she just didn't want to do it. She wanted him to contact Lizzie and make amends. "David?"

"Forget it, school isn't that important." He hung up.

Miranda stared at him for a long time, and then frowned. "She wouldn't tell you, would she?"

"She said she doesn't know." He leaned his back against the wall and slid down, holding the phone in his hands as they trembled. He didn't want to have to do this. He'd put it off for so long now, this would only hurt more. He dialed the number with numb fingers and waited for the automated system. He gave his name and waited again.

An older man with a gruff voice answered. "Sacramento County Jail, Alonso speaking, how may I help you?"

Gordo paused and bit his lip, fighting back tears and a rush of memories. "May I speak to Elizabeth McGuire?"

"One moment, please." The man answered.

Lizzie was allowed to accept calls, but only if it was at a certain time of day. Most prisons didn't offer that luxury. She also had a bail of six grand. One that her parents hadn't even paid yet. He looked down at his shoes and waited for her to come on the line. They'd have to transfer her to another room, where the call could be monitored, and wait for her to say it was okay. And even then, she only had twenty minutes at most to talk. Miranda's father had walked him through it before.

Lizzie's voice came over the line, soft as ever. "Hello?"

"Lizzie?"

"Gordo!" She asked shocked. "Where is Abigail? Is she okay? Please tell me you have her!"

"She's with me," He whispered carefully. "I'm sorry I didn't call you as soon as she showed up…it's already been two days." He stared intently at his shoes. "Why did you tell her to come here?"

"She needed someone who would care about her to raise her," Lizzie answered quietly. "I love Abby to death, she's my world…but she needs opportunities, and I can't give her that."

"So you sent her to me?" He asked, voice rising. "I didn't want a child."

"That's _not _what you told me in 2006!" She shouted. "_You said_ you did!"

A flood of memories came rushing back to him and he began to tremble with tears. She was right, he had said that. He brushed them away and started thinking rationally again. "I want to enroll her in school. What is her social security and location of birth?"

Miranda stood waiting, pen ready, as he repeated what Lizzie had said. "Thanks, I'll call from my cell phone and finish her enrollment, Gordo."

He nodded a thank you and took a deep breath. "Are you clean now?"

"I have to be, I'm in prison." She answered. "It's not easy, you know. You can't just quit."

"Just like you can't just quit being a parent when it's convenient. She loves you, Elizabeth. She speaks about you night and day." He answered. "Mommy this, mommy that, mommy everything. I'm so weak and powerless, you know that? You're a God and I'm a peasant."

"She idolizes me because she's been with me her whole life. Give her time to know you and that will change." She smirked and coughed slightly. "_David_, you can't just walk away from being a father because it's easy."

"How do I know she's not Ethan's?" He retorted. "How do I know you don't want her to be raised wealthy, so you sent her to me, huh? You've lied to me before, Lizzie! You told me when I found out you were pregnant that she was Ethan's, and then you changed your story to say she was mine. How can I trust you anymore?"

She growled something about responsibilities when the message pinged to let him know there was only five minutes left in the call. "You're a terrible person, Gordo."

"Says the woman who cheated on me and lied about it, then started doing drugs and shoved her daughter off on me. That's _real _responsible, Lizzie." He shook his head and sighed. "You know what, forget it. I'll raise her, and I'll fight for full custody, even adopt her."

"You can't do that, she's mine!"

"You told me she was mine." He answered, finally catching Lizzie in a lie. "You don't really know, do you?"

Her lip trembled and she started to cry. "I wanted her to be yours, Gordo. I prayed she was."

"She's not, is she?"

"I don't know. I never had her tested. She was too young; it would have hurt her to know. Please don't test her, just let her believe she's yours." Lizzie cried. "She loves you, she tells me every time she calls me that she wants to meet you. She's only ever heard good stories about you; let her keep believing you're that kind man from those stories."

"Either get clean or lose her, Lizzie. Your choice. I'm not taking you back." He hissed before the phone hung up.

He sat on the floor where he'd started out, staring at the carpet the whole time. Flashes of memories passed through his mind. Card games in the library, games they played, the school project where they were married…babysitting Matt…high school prom…the engagement. He put his head in his hands and sighed audibly. Lizzie had lied to him and played his heart the whole time. That made him no better to Greta.

He stood to his feet and stared ahead, bold and confident, knowing that if he really did want custody; it was easy enough to get with her being a user. He hesitantly walked into the living room and smiled as Abby ran to him and threw her arms around him. "Good morning, daddy."

"Good morning, Abby," He answered. "Did you see your room yet?"

"No! Can I?" She ran ahead anyway, and slid through the doorway, eyes wide with awe. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gooossshhh! Disney!"

"What girl doesn't like Disney?" he asked quietly standing beside her. "So you like it?"

"I love it! Thank you daddy!" She jumped up and down and smiled the whole time. "Does this mean I'm staying?"

"We already agreed you were staying," He mumbled casually. "Who said you weren't?"

"You did…last night."

"I was really tired, Abby. I didn't mean to hurt you. But, you know what? You deserve a chance. Just like you gave me a chance." He rubbed her hair and smiled. "Go play, we'll get you to school a little late today."

Miranda smiled at the child, then turned to Gordo and kissed him on the cheek. "You're a great daddy; don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

He stared down at his feet. "What if I'm making a mistake?"

"Mistake?" She asked incredulously.

"What if Abby isn't mine and I adopt her out of spite?" He asked.

Miranda shook her head. "Don't adopt Abby until you've gotten a DNA test first. And if she's not yours and you still want to adopt her, go for it. But don't do anything you might regret later."

"Yeah," He whispered. "You're right."

Miranda smirked. "I know I'm right. I'm always right. I called the school and got her enrolled for you. She'll be starting in the May semester of next year. Expect her to need lots of clothes. I'll drop her off with James in the morning when I take him over to daycare. Did you know there's a school next door to Abby's called Spencer Academy for boys?" She laughed. "Seems kind of odd putting them both together and not having a coed school, huh?"

Gordo didn't see the irony.

"You're upset." Miranda added curiously. "Why."

"She didn't want me testing her. Do you think Lizzie knows?"

"I doubt it, she didn't even know…" Miranda paused. "Do you think she started using before Abby was born?" She asked.

"I'm going to hurt her if she did," Gordo answered, folding his arms tightly around his sides. "I'm _not _going to have Abby going back to that situation. Blood related or not, she's mine now. Lizzie has a long way to go before she can get her from me."

"Are you ready to stop fearing the name _father_?" Miranda asked with a sly smirk.

"I'm ready to be the father she wants me to be. I'm not going to turn her away anymore, Miranda. She needs someone, and if Ethan and Lizzie can't be there, I might as well be." He couldn't deny the fact that even if it wasn't his child, it would still kill him knowing she was part of Lizzie. He wanted a DNA test, but promising he wouldn't make it more difficult to deal with the reality of the situation. "I'm ready to be a dad."

Miranda pat him on the back. "Good for you, dad. Now let's get her to school, shall we? You have work."

"Oh! Right." He smiled. "Come on, Abby, you have to go to daycare."

* * *

><p>AN: Still running as my favorite. Sixteen pages today, lol. That's a <em>long <em>update. Expect another sometime this week, probably after Christmas. SOD is on indefinite hiatus until I figure out where I can go with it. Read and review. Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, and Happy Kwanzaa!


	3. Chapter 3

Miranda braided Abby's hair with a light smile. The child had stayed the night because Gordo was sick and didn't want to pass it along to Abby, but Miranda feared it may have already been too late. Larry tapped gently on the door to the master bedroom and watched his wife. "You always wanted a girl, didn't you?"

Miranda looked back at her husband and smiled sadly. "I'm happy with whatever I get, and James is definitely enough to make my life a little more enjoyable." She tugged gently on a strand of Abby's hair, tying a bright pink bow at the bottom of it. It had been a little over a week since she'd been dropped into their lives, and already they were making adjustments for the small child, even though no one was really aware of who she was.

Larry sat beside Miranda and looked at the two in the mirror. It was almost as if Miranda was made to be the mother of a girl, but he wouldn't say it out loud. He looked at the bows in Abby's hair and tugged the loops so they were tighter. "Have you been enjoying school, Abby? It's my understanding you've never been before."

Abby nodded enthusiastically. "It's really fun. I get to play with other kids, and Sammy, she's really nice. She shared her lunch with me!"

Larry smiled gently and brushed Miranda's hair back gently. "Motherhood suits you, dearest. We should probably get ready for work. Do you guys want pancakes?"

Abby jumped excitedly. "Can I have blueberries on mine?"

The older male nodded. "Of course, miss Abby."

Miranda stood and offered her hand to Abby with a nod. "Want to help me pack yours and James' lunch?" She inquired softly.

Abby's blue eyes lit up when Miranda asked. "Would I!"

A small smile crossed Miranda's lips as she went through the hallway, passing portraits and photographs of her family and friends over the years. She gazed every so often at one of them at graduation, but never dwelled on it for very long. Friends forever clearly didn't mean the same thing to Miranda as it did to Lizzie. Larry noticed his wife staring and went over to take the picture down. "Larry, what are you doing?"

"Trust me; you're better off without those memories." He murmured, putting the photograph into the drawer next to the stove, where all the other junk had gone and never been touched again. "She's sick, Miranda."

"It's not too late to help her, you know. She never gave up on us." Miranda commented, looking down to Abby as if she wasn't aware they were talking about her mother.

"If she was a decent human being, she wouldn't have shoved her daughter off on a total stranger." Larry tried to justify.

"We're not strangers. We're friends. And she knew we'd take care of her, that's why she did it. And what if Gordo is her dad? Then what, Larry? Will he be the bigger man and take care of her, even though he really has no time for a child? Will he sacrifice his entire career, hopes, and dreams to raise a child he wasn't aware of until maybe two weeks ago?" She let go of Abby's hand so the child could go play race cars with James in the living room. Miranda folded her arms and trembled with tears. It was the first time in six years that Larry had seen his wife cry. "Her dream was to be a mother. Why would she sacrifice her dreams to ruin her life?"

"Miranda," Larry brought her close and ran a hand gently through her hair. "Listen, _bella_, you can't change the world. You can change the world one person at a time, but you can't change the world. Right now, Abby needs a mother, and you can give her that. I'm not saying you need to give up on Lizzie, but Lizzie needs to make some major adjustments before she can get Abby back. She gave up her child for her lifestyle; she doesn't deserve this child as much as you do."

"But she's Gordo's daughter, I can't take her away." Miranda whispered, wiping her tears away. She buried her head into her husband's shoulder and whimpered softly. "Larry, I want a little girl."

"I know you do, but for now, why not take care of Abby for Gordo? He already agreed he's too busy to care for her himself, so be a full time parent for him, and he can be a part-time daddy. That way he's part of her life, and you get the daughter you wanted." Larry suggested.

"But that isn't fair to Abby."

"Does it look like Abby minds?" Larry inquired, pointing to the child playing happily in the other room. She laughed when James made a joke – even though it was a _terrible _joke, and smiled, racing the car into his own. "Miranda, it's not a permanent solution, it's nowhere near a solution, but focus on the _right now _and worry about the _maybes_ later."

The woman looked down when she heard her phone ring. Absently picking it up, she didn't bother to look at the caller ID. "Sanchez."

The voice on the other line coughed for a bit before speaking with a raspy voice. "Miranda, I need you to do me a favor."

She stood up a little straighter and sniffled, wiping away her tears, as if he was in the room with her. "Gordo, what's wrong?"

"I'm figuring I can kick this cold in a few more days, so I'm going to fly out and visit Lizzie at the prison, see if I can get her put into a halfway house. She needs someone to have faith in her, and I want to be that person." He coughed again and sighed, taking deep breaths. "I need you to watch Abby for a little while longer. Can you do that for me?"

Miranda's brown eyes lit up, she smiled wide, and suddenly her tears were forgotten. She'd never outright admit to Gordo that she was jealous of him, especially since the girl he loved was so out of sorts. "Of course I can do that for you. Thank you for giving me this opportunity."

"Of course, I trust you with my life, why wouldn't I trust you with my daughters'?"

"So you've taken to calling her daughter now?" Miranda murmured.

He sighed quietly and laughed nervously. "It fits. I don't know why, but it just fits."

"I meant to ask you, since you've been sick and skipping work, whose going to give the presentation to Miramar?" She asked quietly, knowing he had a movie he had to pitch to a larger production company. Miramar was another large company that dealt with Science Fiction films, something Gordo had tried desperately to get involved in for at least three years. "Don't tell me you're giving up on the merger."

"I need to talk to Larry." He waited until she passed the phone off to her husband before speaking again. "I already wrote up the report, but I know how much you wanted to do this, so I'm asking you to stand in for me and deliver my pitch to the Miramar Film Agency, can you do that for me? You're the only other person that believes in this as much as I do."

Larry smirked. "Is there an official title that comes with this new upgrade of power?"

"Yeah, do-it-for-me-or-your-ass-is-fired?" Gordo suggested.

"You got it, boss." He paused for a moment. "Is that it?"

"Larry, would you be opposed to being bumped up a few pay grades?" Gordo inquired.

Larry blinked several times, his mouth agape. Miranda had a hand over her mouth, trying to figure out what had Larry so shocked. "Pay grades? Like, how many are we talking here?"

"The company is making good money, there's no reason I can't give you the promotion you've been begging me for since 2009." Gordo smiled a little. "Since Abington resigned to move over to a different studio, I figured you were the most likely candidate to step in and cover this blank spot in the ledger. Would you like to be VP?"

"What kind of perks come with that title?" Larry inquired, his voice wispy with shock.

Gordo thought about it. "A five figure salary that's over 60 a year. VIP access to any premiers, a new car since yours is a piece of junk, and paid vacation days? You already have the best insurance, so I can't offer that as a deal-breaker."

"What if I say no?"

"You're not going to say no. Your Spanish wife would have a few choice words for you, and I'm guessing that a lot of those wouldn't be in English." Gordo countered.

"Let me talk it over with my wife."

Gordo rolled his eyes. "Talk what over? We already know what her answer is going to be. Larry, you'd be an idiot to turn me down."

"Okay, fine, my answer is yes. When do I start?" Larry paused and thought about it, checking his watch to see what the date was. "Isn't your presentation tonight?"

"Mmhmm. Are you prepared for it?"

"N-No…but I suppose I have no choice in the matter," He thought about it again and looked at Miranda for a moment. "Gordo, you have no idea how much this means to me. Can I go out and celebrate on your dime?"

"After the presentation." Gordo complied. "Get Miramar to sign on with us and I'll give you pretty much anything you want."

"Including your daughter?" Larry asked.

"She's not up for negotiation, sorry." He laughed. "Miranda can make her own model. Mine's not for sale. I have to go, Larry, the doctor just walked in. Take your time with Miramar, try to appeal to Sheffield specifically, he's been dying to do a deal with us since forever. Hit this one out of the park for me, I know you can do it."

"You got it, boss." He hung up and turned to Miranda, not even noticing the fire alarm going off. "Miranda! I just got promoted to VP of Gordon Enterprises, how amazing is that?"

"Absolutely beautiful, but can you go deal with the fire on the stove before you burn the apartment down?"

Larry blinked and ran to the kitchen. "Sorry, _bella_! I forgot! But with the pay raise, I can afford a new house, too!"

* * *

><p>Miranda straightened Larry's tie for the third time in the last five minutes. James stood beside her, dressed in his own little suit, matching his father almost perfectly. Gordo had ordered and sent a beautiful pink dress for Abby to wear, since tonight was her first night as the daughter of the CEO of Gordon enterprises. The little girl was so fascinated by her dress, she kept twirling in circles happily and watching her skirt twist around her body. Miranda tugged on one of the child's braids, reminding her that they all needed to be on their best behavior during the pitch meeting.<p>

James looked up at his mother and father for a long time, his brown eyes calculating. "Papa, do I have to be good? I hate this outfit."

"It's only for a few minutes, James, I promise." Larry replied, kneeling to his son's level. "I brought you some cars to play with so you don't make the other guy's nervous. I would have just left you at home, but my boss keeps stressing that this is a family company," Larry rolled his eyes and smiled at James. "Just be good for daddy, okay? This is really important to me."

James nodded and hugged his father back. "I promise, daddy."

Greta came from the board room, holding the door open slightly with her foot. Inside the investors were murmuring lively about the absence of Mr. Gordon, and the lack of professionalism in the way his employee's dressed. Greta rolled her eyes. She'd been lectured that she had to wear something less revealing, which meant a long white cocktail dress with red roses adorning it sporadically.

She peered at Larry with disgust. "The investors are getting restless, you might want to wrap up your family meeting and get in here."

"You are a bitter, bitter woman, Greta. I hope the years will be kind to you." Miranda mumbled.

Greta smirked. "I don't have to be nice, I have the boss wrapped around my pretty manicured nails."

"I can think of another woman that gets more attention than you," Larry smirked.

Greta rolled her eyes. "Is she the one he's been breaking my dates for? I'll beat the hell out of her if I find her."

Miranda possessively pulled Abby closer, walking into the room behind Larry. There was a collective gasp as the family entered the room. Miranda took a seat beside her husband, Abby sat beside Miranda, and James sat beside Larry. They quietly watched as the investors started talking amongst themselves.

Finally one of the older ones spoke, the gray haired man raising a hand. "This is an outrage, we were told that David Gordon would be here. I have talked to him via conference on webcam, and I know with great certainty that you are not him!"

Larry turned to Miranda, she gave him a nod suggesting she was confident in his abilities, and handed him the iPad. He tapped in a few buttons and brought up the projector screen behind him. The man sighed and pressed another button, bringing up a conference call with Gordo, and Gordo did _not _look pleased.

"Tudjman, I told you this was a last resort." Gordo mumbled, tissues scattered all over the desk. His eyes looked hollow from lack of sleep, the blue lacking their usual luster. He sniffled, his nose bright red, as he watched the investors. "Aren't you going to pitch this for me?"

"Sorry, Mr. Gordon, they wanted to know why you weren't here doing it yourself, I felt it might be easier to explain if you did it for me." Larry justified, looking down at his hands.

"Oh, right." As if it slipped his mind, Gordo explained. "I have bronchitis, so I felt that going to a meeting sick probably wasn't a great idea on my part. I had Greta, my secretary forward a memo to everyone present that I couldn't be present and that Larry, my VP would be in charge of filling in for me."

The investors all turned to bring up messages on their phones and nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gordon, I didn't mean to bother you when you were sick."

Abby looked up at the screen, with usual bright enthusiasm, and shouted; "Get better, okay?"

"I will, sweetie." He blew a kiss to Abby and cut the feed.

Larry set down the folder and stood to his feet, eying the investors. Greta offered them each a mug of coffee before standing in the corner, smiling absently. Though she had hoped Gordo would be the one making the pitch, any successful step for the company meant working for her beau longer. "Mr. Gordon wanted me to begin by welcoming all of you for the first time to _D. G. Enterprises_," Larry began. "Our mission is always clear, to produce the best films while still valuing the consumer. Although the company is relatively new, you may recognize the name from such films as _Binghamton, All Quiet on the Western Front, Amarillo Skies, Ride Forever, _and _Zombie Brides_."

Greta rolled her eyes at the mention of _Zombie Brides_; a film that she didn't particularly felt showcased the companies best qualities.

"Currently," Larry continued. "We have worked with investors from Lucas Arts, and Spielberg films, all films being under their name, of course."

He consulted the notes that Gordo had made, then closed the notebook. "Mr. Gordon had asked me to use the notes he left me, because we've been trying to include your company in a merger with ours for several years now, but I feel that working from notes is too impersonal for what our company is trying to provide. We work with state-of-the-art equipment, all of our digital grafting is spot on, and our 3D is practically flawless. We can offer what your company doesn't have. Ingenuity in visual effects."

The investors spoke among themselves for some time before quieting. Sheffield was the first prompted to speak. "While I do admit that your company offers only the best in visual effects, I'm not entirely sure that the asking price is reasonable. Fencing your company out to us for thirty grand each month? We can't work with that kind of money. Our budget is much less."

"This is what makes Miramar so successful, the ability to make low-budget films appear as if they had a million dollar budget; but imagine the quality you could obtain by using our company for your visuals? You could take a 100 grand budget and make it look like two million dollars. I think I speak on behalf of the entire company when I say that it would be an honor to work with your company." Larry turned to his wife. Miranda nodded and smiled, knowing he was doing the company proud.

Sheffield spoke again, "With all due respect, Mr. Tudjman, I don't entirely respect a company that finds children in the boardroom to be a good idea. Regardless of being well-behaved."

Larry stumbled to think of what to say to that. "Mr. Gordon has admired your work for as long as he's been alive, Mr. Sheffield, he's bought every single one of your movies, and pulled them apart to find how they came together. He's studied your movies since he was a film major in college six years ago. With all due respect, Mr. Gordon would likely be your biggest fan. He wants nothing but the best for your company, and he'll do nearly everything to achieve that."

"And while I agree that this is a great investment opportunity, you have been awfully evasive about my counterpoint," Sheffield quietly replied. "Why are there children in the board room?"

Larry sighed in defeat. "Mr. Gordon puts great emphasis on the family aspect of this company, anything that's produced by this company is family oriented. If it isn't something that these children can watch, than he wants nothing to do with it. However, he's been trying to spin off the company with Miramar so he can start venturing into more adult-themed films." Larry turned to Abby and held out his hand as if he was Vanya White. "This is Abigail McGuire, she's one of Mr. Gordon's favorite children right now, and my niece. For weeks he's been trying to teach this child how the company works in hopes she could take it over someday. Abigail is a very gifted child, and smart beyond her years. She has watched many of Mr. Gordon's films and not had a single nightmare. Thus, she is currently here for testing support."

"And you felt a need to bring her into the board-room, why?" Sheffield asked again.

Larry paused and quieted slowly. "Because Mr. Gordon asked me too. He informed me that she is much like your daughter, and you used to bring her to pitch meetings when she was younger, it was one of the things that set you apart from the other companies. He felt you might appreciate our offer more if we could show you what the money was going towards."

Sheffield looked to his partners and spoke to them in silence. Larry stared at Miranda for a long time, hoping she could offer him words of encouragement, but she didn't speak, she kept her hand on James' waiting for a result.

Sheffield looked back at the family with a small smile. "We'll sign on for a year; if the company shows improvement in sales by that time, then we'll appeal to the CEO again. However, we will lease only if you agree to lowering your outlandish fee."

Larry didn't feel it was up to him to make that decision, but he nodded anyway and offered his hand. "Ten thousand a month."

"Deal," Sheffield answered, looking to Miranda with a small smile. "Is there a form we need to sign?"

Larry nodded to Greta. The blonde ran from the room and went to find the forms. Sheffield turned to Larry. "You must introduce me to that blonde bombshell that's been standing behind me all night."

Greta came back with the forms and set them on the table for all the investors to sign. She looked at Larry hesitantly. Something about the way he was standing made her nervous. "There you go, Mr. Tudjman. Is there anything else you need, sir?"

"No, Greta, thank you for your support."

* * *

><p>Greta folded her arms tightly across her body and shook her head. "I will not go on a date with him, and you know why."<p>

Miranda shook her head. "Greta, please, it's imperative to the company's success."

"No! I'm in a relationship with David, and you're already aware of that. I can't turn my back on him. I love him." Greta replied.

"No, you love his money." Miranda replied, sitting on the edge of Gordo's desk, speaking to Greta in private. Larry currently had the kids, so she knew that she had time to talk to Greta alone. "Do you ever wonder who I am in relation to David?"

Greta rolled her eyes, looking to the awards on the walls. "I really don't care, you're married."

Miranda grabbed Greta by the arms and shook her slightly. "Greta, I grew up with David. I watched him fall in love with my best friend, and then get his heart broken. I was there for him when she left him for some other guy. I was there when he found out she was using drugs. I was there when he found out he was a father. And I was there when he decided that he would rather find someone who loves him for who he is and not his money." She bit her lip and closed her eyes for a long time. "David deserves a lot better than you, and he'll never say it out loud. Greta, move on and find someone worthy of you."

Greta kept the cold exterior, her eyes watery. "No! I love David. I won't turn my back on him, he needs me!"

Miranda shook her head. "He needs to be there for his daughter, he doesn't need you."

"I can be a great mother to her!" Greta shouted in defense.

"What's her name?" Miranda asked, hesitating only for a moment. "What is his daughter's name?"

"…I…don't know." Greta conceded.

"He didn't tell you for a reason, Greta. He didn't tell you because he doesn't want you to be a part of her life." Miranda let go of the blonde and took a step back. "He doesn't love you, he's lonely. Greta, do what's best for him and his family and let him go."

"But I love him, Miranda, I can't just walk away from him…he loves me, too. He told me so." Greta replied.

Miranda shook her head. "I was there, Greta. He was drunk and didn't mean what he said. Every night I talk to him he asks me about Elizabeth. He asks me how she's doing, if she's better, if she's made progress. She's _sick, _Greta. She needs him more than you need him. Give Sheffield a chance, he likes you…he likes you for _you_ and not your looks."

"But…what about the company?" Greta asked, finally breaking down.

Miranda hugged Greta close. "Do it for David. He wants Miramar in the worst way, if you want to see him succeed, then do this for him."

The blonde pulled away and wiped her eyes, fixing her makeup in the window. "He really loves this girl?"

Miranda folded her legs. "He proposed to her a long time ago, she had even said yes. But later, she left him for a model. They both loved each other, and I'm sure there were other circumstances to it, but I never knew what they were. Lizzie would never break Gordo's heart like that. They've known each other since they were babies."

Greta turned to look at Miranda, straightening her hair with a comb. "I was wrong for doing what I did to him, wasn't I?"

Miranda shook her head slightly. "Greta, be there for him as a friend, but don't try to be a parent to his daughter. She already has a mother." And for what seemed like the first time that night, Miranda realized where her mistake was. She wasn't Lizzie, and she had no right trying to be. "He needs to find his heart again and sort out his feelings. You need to move on."

Greta nodded. "I'll do what I have to do." She smiled softly to Miranda. "Her name is Abby, isn't it? It's the girl in the meeting."

Miranda nodded and looked away. "She's so much like him."

"Yes, she is. But I can see something else in her, something he doesn't have." Greta tapped her lip with a manicured finger and thought about it. "It's an innocence he doesn't have. Maybe it's just because she's young, but it's there."

Miranda nodded. "Abby is incredibly understanding as well as forgiving. She's too wise for her age. I guess it's because of all the circumstances that surround her life." She looked down, wondering what kind of lifestyle Greta had to be the way she is now. "You really care about him, don't you?"

"He was nice to me, and it was fun while it lasted…but, you're right. I was leading him on and it's not fair to him. I kept getting angry that he was breaking dates, but I didn't once consider why. I didn't know he was a father." Greta replied.

Miranda smiled sadly. "Neither did he."

* * *

><p>Larry stood in the living room with Abby sleeping against his shoulder. He paced around absently, rocking her to sleep while Gordo spoke to Miranda. Miranda sat in his "office" at the apartment, which was now what looked like a broom closet, and carelessly spoke about what she'd said to Greta.<p>

Gordo looked away and paged through a notebook on the side of his desk. "I've been thinking of all the things I would say to Lizzie. It's been so long since we've seen each other, I'm not sure if the words would even come out right after I practice them for days on end. The lady at protective services told me that if Lizzie doesn't straighten out within a year, then full custody would go to me, but I don't want to take Abby away from her mother. She loves her."

Miranda folded her legs and watched her friend try to find a coherent thought through the slur of medication. She wasn't sure if he was talking or if the medicine was. Quietly turning to look at the man in the living room with Abby, while James played on the floor, Miranda realized that while Gordo wanted to be a father, he didn't know the first thing about parenting. She folded her arms against a sudden chill and pushed her hair back. "It's not too late to save her, Gordo."

"How do you know?" He asked.

She sighed and thought about it. "Honestly, I don't. But Lizzie never gave up on us, even when we backed out and forced her to turn against us. Not once did she say goodbye to us." Miranda paused and thought about it. "She wouldn't have sent Abby here if she wasn't yours. Why would she send Ethan's daughter here? She knows it would kill you to do that."

"She doesn't even know who Abby's father is." Gordo put his head in his hands and tangled his fingertips in his curly and unruly hair.

"Listen, Child Services wouldn't have sent her to you unless they did a paternity test on her…would they?" Miranda tried to argue.

"I don't know."

"I thought you knew everything?" Miranda asked.

He bit his lip. "I don't know." Looking away, he frowned. "They told me I have a month to prove I'm fit to take care of her; how in God's name am I going to do that?"

"With my help, of course." Miranda smirked. "I won't let you down, Gordo."

* * *

><p>Three days later, Gordo stepped foot in Sacramento for the first time in several years. He stopped by the car rental place and rented a car, setting off for the hospital Lizzie had been transferred to. They decided to let her go to a psychiatric ward for counseling before putting her in any other situations, seeing as she failed an evaluation. He shook his head, wondering what could have possibly happened to drive that beautiful girl to this.<p>

Not even an hour later, not wanting to waste time and psych himself out of what he had to do, he came to the fifth floor of the hospital she was now at, and pressed the buzzer. "I'm here to see Elizabeth McGuire?" The large clunky doors opened and Gordo stepped inside.

There were people standing and milling about in the hallways, parents visiting children, children visiting parents, and Gordo. He signed in at the nurses' station and went down the hall to the room she'd mentioned. Stopping at the door to room 607, he took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. "Be still, my heart," He whispered absently before tapping on the door.

Lizzie opened to door. Her normally well-kept blonde hair was frizzed and knotted. Her green eyes lacked shine, and her complexion was incredibly dulled. He barely recognized her in her blue hospital shirt and denim jeans. She was barefoot, something he hadn't noticed right away, not even when she ushered him in to sit down on the bed.

"Lizzie, it's been so long," Gordo stood frozen in the doorway. "What's happened to you?"

"I wasn't a hundred percent honest with you, Gordo." She whispered sadly. "I sent Abby to you because I knew she had a better chance to be with you. You would take care of her like the father she never had. I don't know if she's yours or Ethan's, but I do know that I was raped." Lizzie whispered sadly. "I never tested to see if she was his."

Several moments of stunned silence passed before Gordo realized that all his well rehearsed lines weren't going to work this time.

* * *

><p><em>Okay guys, I think I owe a huge apology. A few weeks ago I found out someone very near to my heart tried to commit suicide. I haven't really been in the right frame of mind to write lately, and I hate to say that. I want to sit down and force progress, but then I end up with really bad updates that make no sense. I'm not usually one to post more than one story at a time, but I had already expected to be done with Star of David by now. I'm actually really upset that I'm <em>not _done yet! Overcoming Insanity is on hold for a little bit while I work with a friend on it. So right now, this one and Star of David are still in progress, but otherwise, don't expect a lot of updates. I'm really sorry about this. But on the bright side, I found a whole new inspiration!_


	4. Chapter 4

**WARNING: Really intense situations right here. Read at your own risk. ;-)**

Gordo paused for only a moment, words failing to come to his mind right away. He stared at the frazzled blonde before him, the one that looked so much like the child claiming to be his daughter, and shook his head slightly, shaking the thoughts away. As soon as she spoke the words, his mind started thinking of all the possible scenarios. Being a writer, he couldn't shake the horrible thoughts bombarding his mind at that possible moment. Did it hurt? Was she scared? Why didn't she tell him? Did she cry? All these thoughts he couldn't express, and yet his mouth moved anyway. "How do I know you're not lying?" Mentally, he could have kicked himself. Who asks that?

Lizzie looked down at the floor, staring at her hands, folded in her lap carefully. They'd been chewed down to the nub, skin broken and cracked around her nails. "Gordo, I loved you. I would have never left you. Not even if I was paid a million dollars. It wasn't my intention to hurt you, but when I found out about Abby, I wanted to tell you she was yours, but I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Why? Why not? Why lie to us both about everything, Lizzie?"

She brushed her long hair back and closed her eyes for a moment, green eyes opening to tears. "Because I wanted to raise Abby in a home where she'd have both parents, and let's face it, Gordo, you wouldn't have been home very much."

"I do a damn fine job without you, Elizabeth!"

Lizzie frowned. "So who's watching her right now?"

Gordo paused, blue eyes looking down in shame. "Miranda is for the time being. Don't think I'm shirking my responsibilities, if she's even mine."

"Oh, she's yours." Lizzie replied.

"And how in God's name would you know, Elizabeth? You don't even remember anything from that night." He leaned against the wall, bracing himself with his palms. "I'm tired of this fight with you. You want me to raise her, fine. Give me her paperwork, and sign your life away, you'll never see her again."

"She's my daughter!" Lizzie growled. "There's no doubt about that!"

The male folded his arms and sat back in the chair across from the bed. "Lizzie, you gave up any rights as a mother the day that child showed up on _my_ doorstep."

Lizzie stood up harshly and looked him in the eye, green clashing with blue for a long time. "You don't even know if you're the father!"

"You _just said _I was her father, and by law, I have parental rights over her since you listed me on her birth certificate. Who is it, Lizzie? Was it me or Ethan?" Gordo waited patiently, his hands folded across his chest. She didn't answer after a few minutes and Gordo lost patience. "Exactly."

"It's yours." Lizzie thought about it long and hard, the feeling liberating. "I know _for a fact_ that it's yours."

"Her name is Abigail!" Gordo shouted in anger. "Do _not _refer to her as an _it_!"

"It doesn't matter if her name is or isn't, Gordo, she's _your daughter_. I remember now." She started shaking as she fell to the bed, bringing her hands around her body for comfort. "It was a really cold day on December eleventh; I was sitting at work at the café, talking to Alyssa, when I heard the bell ringing to signal the end of my break. When I stood to go back, I was so dizzy I wasn't able to stand. Alyssa asked me if I was okay, and I said yes." She stared at her hands, willing for him to understand. Lizzie loved Gordo more than life; she could never have lied to him like that.

"And what has this got to do with anything, Lizzie?" Gordo inquired, pausing to listen to her speaking. He tried to think back, but nothing came to him. "Answer me."

"Alyssa told me to go home, so I did. I had remembered that she left some pregnancy tests there from when she had that scare a few months before, so I stole one and used it. It came up positive. So did the next five." Lizzie stared at Gordo looking for any sense of understanding in his eyes. He couldn't even look at her, his shame was evident. "Gordo, I was already pregnant for a month when Ethan raped me."

"Lizzie," He looked away. "I don't believe you."

Lizzie growled and stood to her feet. "She was conceived three days before your father's birthday, she was born on yours. What more proof do you need?"

Gordo stood to leave, shaking his head. "I expect her paperwork sent to my apartment in a week. If it isn't, I'll file for child support and put you in prison. Either you can send it, or you can have someone else send it, but I'm not going to take no for an answer. Weather she's mine or Ethan's is neither here nor there, she needs a family – and you're not going to give her it." He stared at the door for several moments before shaking his head clear of the tears threatening to fall. "It's your choice, Lizzie."

Lizzie went to speak when she heard a jingling in the room. Gordo reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone, flipping it so he could unlock it and read the number. He blinked several times when he saw Miranda's name flashing on the front screen. "Miranda?" He paused for a moment, taking a sharp breath. "Calm down, breathe, now what happened?"

Panic crossed his features, blue eyes wide with fright; he'd never had something of this magnitude come up before. He was always so calm and collected, but this wasn't something he'd ever needed to oversee. Fear clutched his heart as he ran through a list of possible responses to calm the woman down. "Explain it to me slower,"

"She's running a fever of a hundred and two, Gordo. She won't stop vomiting, and all she's been doing for the last three hours is crying. She says she wants to sleep, but she can't fall asleep. I don't know what to do, the same stuff that I do for James doesn't work on her." Miranda sniffled and bit her lip. "Should I take her to the hospital?"

"If she can't sleep—"

Lizzie grabbed the phone and stared at the man for a long time, speaking quickly, calmly, and efficiently. "Drive her around the block a few times. You're an hour away from the hospital, by the time she gets there; her fever will be one-oh-three, or just hitting that point. She'll be asleep when you get there, car rides always make her sleepy. It's already on her file, but she'll be okay. Is she in any pain or seizing?"

Miranda tried to figure out who the voice was for a long time, memories flashing to mind. Lizzie. "She said her feet hurt, but she's not seizing."

"Are her feet swollen?" Lizzie asked again, holding up a hand to silence Gordo from speaking.

Miranda checked and raised a brow. "Y-yes, they are. Pretty bad, too."

"Take her to the hospital; make sure she's well asleep before you go. It doesn't matter how sick she is or how much she cries, she'll fall asleep ten minutes after you get in the car. Feed her ice for now, so she doesn't dehydrate. If she can't eat ice, make her drink water, or better, pedialyte. She'll be okay." Lizzie calmed her breathing and smiled a little. "Tell her that mommy loves her, okay?"

Gordo snatched the phone from Lizzie again just as Miranda hung up. He flipped it shut in anger and stared at Lizzie, his eyes softening, voice calming. "You really do care about her, don't you?"

Lizzie fell on the bed trembling. "You never stop being a mother. I've raised her for five years. I know I may not seem like much of a mother, but I am. She has medical problems I can't even begin to explain. That's why I sent her to live with you. I couldn't afford the bills anymore, and she needed the medical attention. She wanted her daddy so badly; I couldn't keep her from going."

"Why couldn't you just say that?" Gordo asked, sitting with a sigh. He stared at Lizzie with sympathetic blue eyes, fear still overwhelming his thoughts. "Why couldn't you be honest with us about it?"

"You didn't want a family. I didn't want to ruin your dream. Abby was _my _dream. She was pretty much everything to me at one time. When I realized I couldn't afford to take care of her anymore…that's when I gave into my sins. I'm not proud of what I did. I'm certainly not proud of letting go of Abby. But at this point, she's much better off without me." Lizzie answered, locking eyes with Gordo as sadness frosted her eyes. She began to cry. "I miss her. I miss my baby."

Gordo felt sadness for Lizzie. He'd been spending time thinking she didn't care about her daughter, but it wasn't true. The woman _never stopped _caring about her child. She wasn't wrong to want a better life for her daughter, but the lying needed to stop. He stood sadly and moved to sit beside the girl, pulling her close so she could lie on his shoulder. Lizzie hiccupped and began to cry louder. "Lizzie…do you want Abby back?"

The blonde shook her head. "Losing Abby was the best thing for me. She drove me to fix my errors. She made me realize that my lifestyle wasn't healthy for any of us."

Gordo touched Lizzie's chin, tilting her head so she was looking at him. He kissed her gingerly on the lips. "She brought me back to you."

Lizzie's voice had a tremor to it when she spoke, her calm voice back. She moved away from him, her green eyes calculating. "Abby needs to be where she's loved. She never got that from me. Take care of her Gordo, okay?"

"I still love you, Lizzie. That hasn't changed. Not even in six years." He replied hearing the buzz that visitation was over. He moved towards the door. "Is there anything in this building that's considered contraband?"

"Weapons, that's about it."

Gordo dug into his pocket and handed Lizzie his personal cell phone. "That's my personal phone. I'll keep my work phone with me – the number is programmed into that under D.G. Enterprises. Call me if you ever feel like you need to talk to Abby. It's only a temporary fix."

She stared at the piece of equipment he handed her and brushed her hair back, thinking hard. "What's your password?"

"2214," He answered, smiling. Maybe, if she hadn't lost her memory, she'd remember the significance. "Until next time, Elizabeth."

* * *

><p>Gordo landed in New York just as the message came through about Abby. Miranda needed a copy of his medical records, to verify something in her genetics. He wasn't sure if it was Miranda asking, or the doctor. He checked his watch to see that it was eleven in the morning, and not too late to call his doctor and have the information faxed to the hospital. Flipping the phone on its side, he texted to Miranda if she knew the number for the fax. She replied almost instantly, likely getting James ready for school. He didn't tell Miranda he was home yet.<p>

Standing in the awning outside the airport, he called his doctor and passed along the information, and then waited for a moment before stepping into the parking lot to look for his car.

He arrived at his apartment an hour later, throwing his keys onto the table next to the door and sorting through mail. Letters upon letters, but nothing important. The letter at the bottom of the stack had him curious. Slipping a finger under the folded portion, he opened the envelope to spy at the contents. One birth certificate from the state, one from the hospital, immunization records, a social security card, and a note from his mother explaining that he would need to contact Doctor Morris for her medical file to be transferred.

He put the paperwork onto the counter and sat there for a moment, staring at the now silent apartment. Only a week had passed and already he was attached to her. If she wasn't his, he'd be devastated. That's when curiosity got the better of him. He picked up the hospital birth certificate and stared at it for a long time. Remembering something his lawyer had explained to him about Abby; he tossed the documents down and dialed up his lawyer's number.

"What's up, Gordon?" The man asked casually.

He growled something under his breath. "I've been paying child support for four and a half years now."

Cooper thought about this for two seconds and answered with a "So"

"What is the law in California about paternity?" Gordo inquired.

Cooper coughed, and then replied. "Well, if the father isn't present at the time of birth, then the mother has to leave the forms blank. The father _has _to sign, or it's not valid. Why?"

"My name is forged!" Gordo shouted. "She has my signature on here, and it looks nearly identical to mine, but it's not mine. I never signed these papers in my _life_."

"That means that you've been paying child support for four and a half years," Cooper answered facetiously. "What do you plan to do about it?"

"There's no point in fighting it now, I'm already better off, so I know I won't be getting anything from her and it would likely bankrupt her, but I don't know." He shook his head. "The bigger question is who signed the papers?"

"Does she have an older male friend or a brother who may have forged your name?" Cooper asked.

"No, I-" And then it dawned on him. His mother would have done it in a heartbeat, and if they weren't paying attention at the office, it could have very well been his mom. Perhaps they had Matt or Ethan go in to stand in as the "male", but his mother was the one who signed the documents. She's the only other person that knew his signature that well. "Son of a bitch, I'm going to kill my mother."

"Can I be your defense attorney? You're a great guy to work with, Gordon." Cooper asked with a mild laugh.

"I need to call my mother."

* * *

><p>He was holding his jacket as he sat in the waiting room for Abby to wake up at four at night, on call-waiting with his mother's office. Nearly a half hour had passed before she picked up. "David."<p>

"I can't believe you ruined my life." He mumbled. "What you did is illegal. You can go to jail."

Roberta stayed silent, clearly thinking of what he was talking about. "You would arrest me?"

"You forged my signature, mother. You used to cash my checks, with my permission, so I know you know how to do it. Why in _God's name _did you put my name down on the birth certificate? And better yet, who did you get to do it for you?"

"Her name is Nancy, she works at the office, and she did it for me." Roberta replied. "You're her father; you need to own up to it."

"I wasn't present, and that was _highly _illegal!" He took a deep breath, calming his fried nerves. "I thought Lizzie was bad, but she had nothing to do with it, did she? She gave the papers to you to take care of, thinking you would give them to me…didn't she?"

"You're a smart boy, David. The writer in you never ceases to amaze me. If you already knew, why did you call to ask me?" She smiled, and then laughed. "Your daughter needs you."

"Who was it, mom."

"Who?"

"The decoy father, who was it."

"Some nice blonde boy. Oh, he was so kind. I met him outside the building and asked if he would like to come up to the office with me, he agreed, and I paid him later. Isn't it wonderful? I think he said his name was Ronnie?"

Gordo couldn't take it anymore; he hung up the phone and threw it across the waiting room, patience finally running dry. He left the shattered phone on the floor as he exited the hospital without saying a word to Abby about ever having been there.

Larry passed by on the way out, watching Gordo with dark blue eyes. "What happened?"

"I'm _not _in the mood, Larry. I will murder every one of you if you don't leave me alone for a while." He answered unlocking the door to his car. "Watch Abby for me. I'm going to do something I should have done a long time ago."

"Strangle a cat? Because that's what it looks like you're about to do." Larry replied.

"Back off, or I'll fire you, and I'll ruin your life." Gordo replied as Larry backed up. "Make sure Abby is okay; take her home. I don't want her."

"Is this to spite Lizzie?"

"Lizzie? No. Not even close. I'm tired of the irony, the situations, and the mix ups. I'm tired of all of it. Let it die. You and Miranda can adopt her; just don't ever let me see her again." Gordo answered, pulling out of the parking lot.

* * *

><p>Larry walked into Gordo's apartment at seven in the morning, seeing empty bottles strewn all over the place. Either he'd had a party, or he was hitting it hard. He waded through the mess and looked to the couch, where a woman lay asleep, presumably his date for the night. Larry continued through the small hall to Abby's room to see it undisturbed. At the end of the hall, in Gordo's room, was a rather hung over Gordo and a drowsy looking blonde curled up next to him.<p>

"Is this the example you're setting for your daughter?" Larry asked, kicking Gordo in the side.

Gordo looked up at Larry with puffy red eyes, either from crying, or the wicked bad hangover he was likely nursing. "Forget Lizzie. I'm through. Abby can go home, she can go with you, and I don't really freaking care anymore. I don't ever want to see her again."

"Mind telling me what happened, Amigo?" Larry inquired, sitting on the dresser across from Gordo. "This is about Liz, isn't it?"

"No," He whispered, his voice wispy. "This is about my mother forging my signature on Abby's birth certificate. I know what she did was illegal. I know she can go to jail. I really don't care. What I care about is the fact that she used _Ronnie Jacobs _as the stand-in for me. I want to _murder _him right now, you know that?"

"I'm glad you got drunk and didn't do anything stupid," Larry replied sarcastically. "Refresh my memory, who is Ronnie Jacobs?"

"Lizzie's first kiss," Gordo answered, feeling sick suddenly. "I love her, Larry. I love Lizzie so much; I can't stop thinking about her. But the more I get twisted into this convoluted mess of a life she's lived, the more I want to stay away from her. I want to be free of her. I thought…Greta could help me forget but, so far I've been wrong…"

The blonde stirred beside him and looked up at Larry, pulling the blanket closer to her nude body in shock. "_Lawrence_!"

"_Greta_!" Larry shouted in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"We're _married_," Greta answered, showing off the ring. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Larry dropped to his feet and stood a few feet from his best friend. "You've crossed a line this time, Gordon. I'm not being nice anymore. I hope you and your harlot have a nice life." And with a turn of his foot to stare at Greta, he whispered the next few words with malice. "I came to tell my best friend that my wife is pregnant, but apparently he doesn't share the same joy."

He slammed the door on his way out, without thinking to look and see if his friend heard him.

* * *

><p>Miranda sat at the kitchen table with Larry, rubbing his back softly. "It's okay, at least he knows now. I'm glad someone told him."<p>

"Do you still want to adopt Abby?" Larry inquired carefully, taking his wife's hand and holding it tight. "Because I would be more than okay with taking care of her now."

"Give Gordo a chance. You know how he gets obsessed with things. Eventually he'll change, if not for himself, than for Abby. He loves her and her mother, but right now, he's caught up in the past. Give him credit for staying strong this long, given the circumstances." Miranda replied, kissing her husband's hand. "Be careful with him, and don't overstep your boundaries. He's crazy possessive about Abigail; if you take her away, even if he gave you permission, he'll fight you tooth and nail."

Larry sighed. "I know, but maybe that's what he needs."

Abby stood in the doorway, holding her frayed rabbit by its ear, her face watching Miranda and Larry. "Daddy doesn't want me?"

* * *

><p><em>After doing research, I realized that California (where Lizzie McGuire takes place) law states that if the father isn't present at the time of birth, the certificate stays blank and gets filled out later. So, this was the only way I could think of to explain that error.<em>

_Meanwhile, I think Gordo handled it pretty well ;-)_

_A rewrite for Star of David is in progress as we speak, tweaked for less error in storyline. Since it came out really bad and mixed up before. That will be posted at a later time to be announced. I got kicked out of my home (see; Evicted), so now I'm on the hunt for somewhere else to go. Meanwhile, my room mate and I are at odds and not getting along. More on that later. Don't be in a hurry to grow up, people. It sucks. I'm working two jobs now to pay off a thousand dollar hospital bill. So not worth it. What does this whole mess get me? A lack of updates...and no reviews. T_T_


	5. Chapter 5

**Sometimes…**

Miranda leaned against the counter in the break room, watching as Greta showed off her engagement ring. This was one of those days where the brunette had an overwhelming urge to rip it off her finger and shove it down the perfect blonde's throat. She resisted the urge, only because Larry squeezed her hand reassuringly. He kissed her cheek and offered her a coffee, which she graciously declined. He sighed and leaned against the counter with her. "So, she's bragging again?"

"When isn't she? Larry, she's told the entire company that she's marrying the CEO and that her first order of business is going to be firing all of us." Miranda stared up at her husband, brown eyes wide and full of doubt. "Do you think Gordo would give her that kind of power over us? We've been with him since the beginning, it wouldn't be fair to fire us!"

"Unfortunately, Bella, the oldest are usually the first to go." Larry confirmed, eying the blonde with remorse. "Do you think she's doing it just to make you angry?"

"I _know_ she is!" Miranda screamed. "Please, Larry, like she'd abuse that kind of power just because she can? That woman is clearly boasting."

"Greta?" Came the calm, demanding voice of the CEO from the doorway. "May I have a word with you, please?"

* * *

><p>Greta leaned against the door of the office, hiking her skirt up slightly. "I bet I know what you're after."<p>

"I know what you want, Greta," He commented rather quietly, pushing files around on his desk. It was painfully obvious what was going to happen, and for some reason, he still felt a need to explain it to the woman. "Not only are you being ambiguous to my employees, but you're telling them you have the authority to fire them? And what is this about starting with the Tudjmans?"

"You complain he's inept all the time! And his wife is just irritating to me!" She stammered. "You said it yourself that if you could, you would."

"First off, if I married you, you'd remain a secretary…where you clearly belong. Second of all, I don't really care how _irritating_ Miranda is, she's my best friend and has been since day one. As for Larry, I have never met a smarter man in my entire life, excluding myself. They helped me pull this company off the ground and give it wings. I'm not going to let you fire them simply because you're envious of their relationship." He replied casually.

"But you said—aren't we getting married?" Greta inquired through tears.

"No," He folded his arms, shaking his head. "Greta, I'm willing to say I'm sorry for a lot of things, but loving you – or lack thereof – was a mistake. You've abused your power and I can't deal with that anymore. I keep getting complaint after complaint about you; you're a _secretary_, for Christ sake. Where do you get off telling people you'll _fire _them?" He sighed and took a deep breath. "I was drunk, and in a bad mood, and envious…and, Christ, I don't even know why I said half the things I did, but Greta…my family is far more important than a relationship with you."

"But I…you loved me." She whispered with a puffy lip.

He shook his head and leaned against his desk, his eyes linked on hers, icy and cold. "No, I loved _you _not your personality. You presume that I don't know everything that goes on in my company. Did you expect me to not know you planned on calling the authorities about my child? Was I not supposed to suspect that she would be missing when I came home? Abigail comes first, no exceptions; if that means kicking you to the curb, that's fine. Frankly, I can't have you in my company stirring up trouble – my ex fiancée does enough of that on her own." He smirked when she reached for the ring to take it off. "Keep it, Greta. You'll need the money for it when you cash in your last paycheck."

As she was walking out, the phone began to ring. He paused briefly and went to pick it up. "Hello, David Gordon speaking, who is this?"

"My name is May, I work at the hospital where Elizabeth McGuire is located," The woman began, speaking slowly. "Miss McGuire listed you as her primary contact, is this correct?"

He nodded voice low. "Yes, it is." Suddenly all the strength he had dealing with Greta was gone. He could already feel his world crumbling. Lizzie was sick. She was dying. He was on the wrong side of the world to even help her. "Has something happened?"

"Elizabeth was transferred over to a hospital in Sacramento for high-risk cases," The woman spoke quietly. "She tried to kill herself last night; one of the nurses found her and cleaned her wounds up."

"How?" He asked, falling into the chair and rubbing his temples.

"Excuse me?"

"How did she try to kill herself?" Gordo inquired again.

The woman sighed and looked away. "She cut herself with a pair of scissors…"

He was drawing blanks here. He knew Lizzie fairly well and that didn't sound like her; then again, abandoning her child didn't sound like her either. "Do you know why she did it?"

The nurse coughed slightly and pushed a hand over the phone, whispering to another nurse to ask if it was okay to release that information over the phone. Several moments passed and she spoke again. "She said she tried to reach you, but a girl picked up. When she asked to see Abigail, she was told that Abigail died, and she would never hear from her again."

Gordo bit his lip. Now he had two problems to deal with. "Might I be able to set up a visit with her?"

"Of course; when would be best for you?"

"Tomorrow…noon. Please and thank you." He didn't say anything else as he hung up the phone. Lizzie was hurting because of him again. He wrung his hands and paced back and forth. How would he help her this time? He could bring Abby with, but would the child really want to go with him after what she'd overheard? His life was a train wreck of emotions and he couldn't breathe long enough to sort them out. There was a soft tapping at the door when Larry entered. Gordo looked up over his folded hands, blue eyes suddenly dark. "Don't you ask to come in anymore?"

"Listen, I was just wondering why Greta is packing her things. Did you know about—"

"I knew all about what she said," He bit off rather bitterly. "Larry, what time does the daycare let out?"

He checked his watch. "At the latest? Seven. Why?"

"I need to go convince a little girl it's okay to love her daddy." He answered, grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door. He stopped in the doorway long enough to look at Larry with a small smile. "Hey, take care of Miranda for me. She's been strong for way too long. You guys need a break. My treat."

"I, uh…that's kind of you but…" Larry stammered. "You already bought us a new house…"

"Larry," Gordo demanded halfway down the hall, a smile plastered on his face at the thought of getting Abby to love him again. "Take the time off, idiot. Your wife would love you immensely for it. Trust me, it's going to be a lot more stressful when I come home, and I'm going to need my Lieutenant by my side every step of the way."

"Got it." As Larry turned away, he couldn't help but wonder if he really did understand or not.

* * *

><p>Gordo hesitantly walked through the doors of the daycare center, the jingling bells signaling his entry. A perky redhead stared from over the desk. She sifted through the files before looking to Gordo. "Excuse me, sir, but we aren't dropping off kids until two."<p>

"I'm here to pick up Abigail McGuire." He commented rather slowly.

She paused and looked over the man again. "Are you her caretaker?"

"I'm her father," He commented casually, awaiting a response.

"I just need you to confirm a few things for me. When is her birthday?" As he rattled off the information, and the attendant looked impressed, she looked over to her manager. "Abigail."

Abby came through the doors behind the desk, her blue eyes downcast at the floor, shuffling her feet as she walked. The child was clearly depressed, dragging her bunny against the floor by its ear. He couldn't bring himself to break her stride until she walked passed him. "Abby?"

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "I don't want to talk to you."

Suddenly it felt as if his world really did cease to exist. Shot down by a six year old? No. That wouldn't fly in his book. He grabbed Abby's wrist and pulled her into a hug, dropping to his knees beside her. "Please forgive me. I've been a terrible daddy to you for a long time now, and you're only a child. You don't deserve to have my problems taken out on you. I'm so, so sorry for what Greta did to you, and I'm sorry you've had to spend so much time with James, though I suspect you don't mind that as much. But Abigail, please, give me another chance to prove you wrong. This time, I swear my heart is in it."

The child whimpered against his shoulder. "Daddy, is it okay for me to cry now?"

He paused and pulled away, staring at the child's icy blue eyes, so much like his own. "Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?"

"Mommy said I needed to be strong while she was gone, so that meant no more crying. She said to hold my chin high and be proud of who I am." The little girl began to tremble. "Am I allowed to cry now?"

"Oh, baby…" He brought her tightly into his arms and held her close, brushing his hands through her hair. "Abigail, I'm sorry I'm a lousy father. Will you let me make it up to you?"

"Yes," She whimpered through tears.

"Can I start by reading you a book tonight? We're going on a trip tomorrow, so you can see some relatives of mine." He replied casually. "Mommy told me you don't like plane rides, so I'll make it as bearable as possible for you."

The little girl nodded, shaking her head as her bunny fell from her hands. "Daddy, I love you."

"I know, baby," He rubbed her back before finally letting go and hoisting her into his arms, picking up her bunny for her. "Abigail, don't ever think I'll leave you. I know you don't want to be lonely. Neither does daddy."

Twelve hours and several earache's later, the duo landed in LAX. Though he'd promised to take her to see her grandparents, he wasn't in the mood to deal with his mother. Even if she did bring him the most beautiful thing in the world.

When they arrived at the hospital, he brought the child into his arms as they went through the building security. Abby remained asleep the whole time. It was a rather quiet trip as they made their way to the fourth floor for visitation.

Lizzie sat on the other side of the glass, where he barely caught a glimpse of her. She was staring down at the table, as if her eyes were hollow. He gently ran a hand through Abby's hair, whispering in her ear that it's time to wake up. "Abigail, I promised to take you to see your family, right? Well, this is your family, okay?"

The little girl nodded, standing to her feet as he set her down. Dragging the bunny's ear, she entered into the room first.

"ABBY!" Lizzie screamed, running to her daughter and dropping to her knees. "My beautiful baby, I've missed you so much. Has daddy been treating you well? Do you go to school every day? Tell me about where you are now, baby. How is life in the snow? Do you like it there? Do you miss mommy? Oh, baby…I've missed you." As Lizzie brushed a hand gently through Abby's hair, she couldn't stop trembling.

One of the guards looked to Gordo. "Aren't you supposed to be in there?"

"No," He whispered, leaning against the window. "She needs a reason to be happy right now, and that reason is Abigail. I've no right to take that away from her."

"Mommy!" Abby screamed. "You're crushing me! I can't breathe!"

As Lizzie released her grip, she rubbed her hands up and down Abby's arms. "Does daddy treat you well, baby?"

"He lets me sleep in his room when I get nightmares. And sometimes, he makes cookies with me. Mommy, I miss you." Abby whispered.

"I know, princess, I know," Lizzie murmured, tugging her sleeves down to hide the bandages on her arms. "Mommy is trying to get better for you. I'll bring you home, I promise."

"Mommy, daddy said we're a family. He said to never forget that." Abby whispered hesitantly. "What did he mean?"

The blonde turned her gaze to the window, where she briefly caught a glimpse of Gordo talking to a guard. _He means he still loves me…_ she thought to herself. Standing to her feet, she tapped on the glass, signaling she was ready to see him. As the guards ushered Abby out, and Gordo entered, she took her seat back at the table in the middle of the room. "I hate being under surveillance."

"If you'd stop trying to kill yourself, you wouldn't be in this mess." He murmured casually, shaking his head. "Look at us, starting off on the wrong foot again. Aren't we a messed up situation?"

She sat carefully across from him, reaching a hand out to touch his. "David,"

"You've never called me that," He answered quietly, voice a low growl.

"The situation calls for maturity," She answered calmly. "Abigail told me what you said…about us being a family…what did you mean?"

"I found out what Greta did to you…Lizzie, I would have told you if something terrible happened to Abby. We may not have been on casual speaking terms but…" He looked up at her, her startled green eyes watching him. "What's that look for?"

"Why couldn't I reach _you_? The number you gave me was supposed to be _you_." Lizzie demanded.

"I…uh…kind of broke my phone in a fit of rage…so it automatically redirects to my work number…which was probably when you reached my secretary." He looked down at his hands, shaking his head thoughtfully. "Lizzie, do you believe that you'll get better?"

She nodded and looked out the window. "I have to. I promised a certain little girl that I would."

He stood and brushed a stray hair from her eyes. "Then for our sake…I hope you do. This family is nothing without you, and I'm not leaving without you."

"What about your job?" She asked hesitantly. "You can't just…leave."

"Don't you worry about that. You worry about getting better." As he turned to walk away, he looked over his shoulder again. "Oh, and Lizzie…? I love you."


End file.
